HEY did not go ashore again. The hours passed. Finally the sun went down, but Chako still paddled doggedly on.
From feeling too much Ann ceased to feel anything. She was solely concerned now with saving herself. Her brain was busy.
“What shall I do when we go ashore?” she thought. “I've got to have sleep. I might steal away from Chako's camp and hide, and get some sleep; but then he would know I suspected him. Anyhow, how could I sleep with the chance of his coming on me at any moment? No, he's got to sleep, too. The safest thing would be to lie down just as usual, where I can watch him. I won't sleep until he sleeps, and I'll trust my instinct to wake me when he wakes. I might have a chance to throw his gun in the water while he sleeps; but he could kill me just as well with his hands.”
Darkness was gathering when the shores of the little river suddenly fell back, and they found themselves out on a dusky blue sheet of water, reflecting the dying light of the sky. Ann recognized with a little thrill that they had come to the lake at the head of the cañon. There was no other such place. Indeed, she could presently hear the roaring of the waters in the gorge below, though at first only as a murmur.
All the southerly side of the lake was bounded by low cliffs, pale in the dying light. On the other side the trees came down to the water's edge. The landing place was down at the end of this tree-lined shore, where broken rocks ran out in a point. Around that point was the awful chute down which the waters poured into the gorge.
Chako let the canoe ground lightly on the shingle, and laid down his paddle. Ann had to get out first. In doing so she had to turn around and present her back to Chako. She did not hesitate. Whatever comes must come, she told herself.
Nevertheless it was with a sort of surprise that she found herself alive and on firm ground once more. She turned and lifted the canoe a little higher, according to their custom.
Chako climbed out over the baggage. He left his gun behind him. Seeing this, Ann's knees began to shake under her. She could stand the strain, but to have it suddenly relieved unnerved her. She crept away a pace or two, and dropped on the ground, fighting to avert a collapse.
“After paddling all day,” she thought, “while I sat idle, he will have a right to demand that I should get the supper.”
She desperately put her limp limbs in motion again. Blindly seeking from tree to tree, she gathered a thick handful of the little dry spines, as he had once showed her. By the time he had carried the bedding and the food ashore, she had a fire started.
Chako carried his gun ashore, and rested it against a tree, near where he had thrown his bed roll. Ann was always electrically conscious of the position of that gun. He left the bag of gold where it was in the canoe. He was too weary to shoulder it. He opened his bedding, and flung himself down upon it. The gun was within reach of his hand.
Chako had paddled about sixteen hours this day, and upon insufficient food. Fatigue was a grand corrective of the unholy passions that filled him, and his look at Ann was almost indifferent. Glancing at him while she washed the rice and sliced the bacon, Ann reflected:
“He'll have to sleep to-night. I'll get some rest.”
To the next day she gave no thought. All her energies were concentrated on living from moment to moment.
He came to the fire when she called him. He sat on his side, she on hers. They passed things back and forth with an appearance of amity, though few words were spoken. It seemed as if Chako would never have done eating.
“It will renew his strength and his rage,” Ann thought bitterly.
“Cook some more,” he said harshly. “There's plenty cached at the other side of the cañon.”
Ann wondered if he meant that there would be only one to eat it.
When he had finished, Ann set about washing the plates and the frying pan. Since he had left his gun over by the tree, she felt in no immediate danger. Heavy with food, Chako reclined on the same spot, supporting himself on his elbow, and glancing at Ann from time to time from under lowered lids.
What was he thinking of? She gave it up with a shrug. Only one thing was clear—he had not relented toward her. At the moment he was sluggish from eating, but his purpose had not changed.